Strangers In The Night
by Scarlet Tabby
Summary: During her CIA imprisonment, Jack makes late night visits to Irina. Seeing her is more painful than staying away, but Jack can't seem to stop himself.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: In answer to a tumblr prompt asking for Jack visiting Irina in prison late at night and their interactions in those early days of their reunion. Please review with any thoughts :)

**Strangers In The Night**

Jack waved the armed guard away. He nodded and walked away, just as he always did when Agent Bristow made these late night visits. Before he left, the guard looped the feed on the security cameras. He knew it wasn't the best thing to do, but Agent Bristow was keeping his brother out of prison and making sure he could afford his daughter's medical care. A little deception was worth it for that. What did he care what Agent Bristow did twice a week in the middle of the night with the prisoner?

Irina could hear the sound of his polished dress shoes down the hallway and smiled. Was it Thursday already? She changed yoga positions, transitioning from cobra to downward dog. Yes, Jack would appreciate this position much more. Her mind flashed with the memories of their married life. It may have been twenty years, but she remembered what her husband liked.

True to her prediction, Jack reached the glass wall and stared at her incredible form before clearing his throat to announce his presence.

Irina stood up and walked to the glass, pushing her hair behind her ear. "I wasn't expecting you."

"It's Thursday at one in the morning. Were you expecting someone else?" he asked. She knew he was teasing, even if his face and voice indicated otherwise.

"Sometimes it is difficult to keep track of time when I'm here all by myself."

"Lest we forget you're here by choice," Jack pointed out.

She nodded. "How else would I get to see my daughter everyday?"

"Sydney comes to see you every day?"

"Every day she's here. Especially since Kashmir. She's starting to trust me."

Jack's frown deepened. "I'll have a talk with her."

"I don't see why. You're certainly spending quite a lot of your free time with me, Jack. I'm sure you have better things to do late at night twice a week than visit an imprisoned terrorist."

He evaded the implied question by explaining, "You saved my life, and Sydney's, in Kashmir. You have my gratitude."

"And your trust?" she asked, a hint of hopefulness bleeding into her voice.

The smallest suggestion of a smile crept to his mouth. "Never. But keeping away from you no longer serves a beneficial purpose. Seeing you and speaking to you will give me more insight into your true purpose here."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm not telling you anything you haven't already figured out."

She nodded in agreement. Slowly and carefully, she lifted her left hand up and pressed it to the glass. "I hate being in a cage," she murmured, more to herself than to Jack.

It took every fiber of self-control in Jack Bristow's body to prevent himself from placing his hand on the glass, to prevent himself from reaching out to try to touch her. He stared at her hand, a hand he knew better than he knew his own, even after twenty years.

Irina watched his face, seeing the overwhelming emotion pass through those dark brown eyes. And when his eyes met hers, they stared at each other for a long time, so much passing unsaid between them.

Jack broke the spell. "I should go. I'll be back soon."

Irina lowered her hand and stepped backward away from him. "When?"

"When I have the time." With that he turned and walked away.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack returned sooner than he had expected, the very next night, in fact. He walked quickly down the hallway after the guard left, unreasonably desperate to see her face.

"Back so soon?" she asked flirtatiously, sauntering up to him.

His face contorted with fury, and he slammed his fist onto the glass.

Irina jumped at the echoing bang. She furrowed her brow. "What was that for?"

Jack still didn't speak. He couldn't. He had nothing to say. His eyes darted, looking her up and down with a dangerous combination of lust and rage. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to strangle her. He wanted to make her scream in ecstasy. He wanted to make her scream in pain. He didn't know what he wanted because he wanted too much.

She tried again. "Jack, look at me. Really look at me." He lifted his head and looked into her bright brown eyes. "What do you see when you look at me?"

He calculated before responding. "It depends."

"On what?" she probed.

"On how you look. Sometimes I only see Irina Derevko, the terrorist who nearly killed my daughter and slaughtered men in service to my agency. Sometimes I only see Laura Bristow, my wife and the mother of my child who loved us too much to ever do anything to hurt us."

"What do you see right now?" she asked softly.

"I see everything."

Irina lifted her hand to the glass just as she had done the night before. This time, Jack mirrored her action. He let out a ragged breath and leaned his forehead on the glass. Irina did the same. She felt a physical ache in her core to be so close and not touch him. He had been like this sometimes during their marriage when he had returned from a particularly difficult assignment. There was too much happening, too much in his mind, too much in his soul, too much to control. Something told Irina that she was the only one to whom he could ever show this side of himself. After twenty years without her, this catharsis must have been a long time coming.

"I wish I could do more for you, sweetheart," she whispered.

Jack's heart skipped a beat as he heard Laura's voice. That tender tone of sincerity that he needed more than he had remembered. He reveled in it for a moment before abruptly standing up straight and swiftly walking back down the hall.

Irina knew there was nothing he could say after that show of emotion. Surely he hated himself for exposing that vulnerability to the woman he now viewed as his enemy, the snake in his garden. It would probably be a long time before she saw him again, and she couldn't blame him.

But to her surprise, he came right back, this time wielding the keys to her cell. He unlocked the door and rushed inside. Before she knew what was happening, his lips had crashed on hers. He held her to him tightly. She clutched at his hair, leaning into the unexpected kiss. They crumpled to the floor, holding one another close on the concrete, kissing until they could no longer breathe.

"Don't ever leave me again," he breathed.

"I don't want to," she responded.

Even in this state, Jack knew the distinction of her answer. She would leave him again. He should hate her for it. Perhaps a part of him did. But right now, he didn't care.


End file.
